When I’m God

My three imaginary friends sit in a circle cross legged under a tree, Essence playing a guitar, Damian writing sappy poetry, and Lissy staring wide eyed into space. Damian is, as usual, wearing black. Lissy has on a pink jumper and her hair has been curled. Essence has on her politically themed t-shirt and her favorite jeans on.

Damian: WheRe’d saRah Go?

Lissy: *like waking up from a stupor* I don’t know! What if she’s hurt!

Damian: she’s not huRt. DoN’t Be stUpid. If She waS hurt, We wOuLd be Too.

Essence: *watching as Lissy begins to cry.* God Damian, be a little less of a jerk. And stop capitalizing your letters weird. You know it freaks her out.

Damian: *Grumbles* EverYthIng fReaks hER oUt.

Essence: *sharply* What was that?

Damian: *sighs* Nothing.

Essence: That’s what I thought.

The camera pans out and you realize that they are sitting on the only grassy patch of a long, wide desert. The tree that they’re sitting under seems to be the only alive thing for miles, excluding small patches of weeds or grass here and there. Welcome to Sarah’s brain.

Lissy: *looks down, abashed* I’m so sorry her back hurts. I hope it gets better soon.

Essence: *Reassuring* I’m sure it will.

Damian: Uhg. Does it have to? She annoys me.

Lissy: But without her *shivers* there wouldn’t be any of us.

Damian: *Rolls his eyes* And that would be so horrible?

Lissy: *beginning to tear up* Oh Damian, you don’t mean that!

Essence: *elbows Damian’s rib cage* Of course he doesn’t sweety.

Damian: God, can’t any of you take a joke?

Lissy And Essence: Nope.

A bird fly’s over the three’s heads and they look around. Suddenly, the dessert’s brimming with life. More trees grow, the weeds turn into grass feels. Watering holes and lakes spring up from the ground. Essence and Lissy smile, Damian pulls his hood over his face.